


edge

by corvidskull



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Sex, Bloodplay, Dominant Akechi Goro, Hand Jobs, Knifeplay, M/M, Masochism, Sadism, Sadomasochism, Submissive Kurusu Akira, Topping from the Bottom, Under-negotiated Kink, actual sex doesn't happen until chapter 2 though, very consensual at all times but this is not how you do kink in a healthy way, will probably add more tags with the next chapter tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvidskull/pseuds/corvidskull
Summary: During their duel in Mementos, Akechi gains the upper hand and Akira ends up with his own dagger against his throat. That... probably shouldn't turn him on as much as it does.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	edge

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Kinktober day 1's prompt for knifeplay, but I'm already late so I figured I'd split this into parts and at least post the actual knifeplay bit for now. I do plan on continuing this! If there's interest anyway, because this is honestly super self-indulgent.

It all started when Crow invited him on a friendly outing to Mementos that turned out to be a challenge to a duel, but it was well into their battle when things really got out of hand.

The pair seemed pretty evenly matched in strength and the fight had drawn out long enough that Joker was beginning to feel too drained to use his Persona’s abilities anymore. From the looks of things, Crow was in a similar state, but neither wanted to admit defeat and call things off just yet and the battle had devolved into a flurry of desperate melee attacks.

Joker was at a disadvantage with the short length of his dagger compared to Crow’s saber, but he made up for it with his agility and dodging capability. His training with Kasumi had actually paid off pretty well. He finally managed to land in a good hit, slashing the fabric on Crow’s shoulder, and Crow snarled in pain as his white outfit was stained with red.

Beneath his long mask, his eyes flashed with rage and with a sudden surge of power, he knocked Joker down with a critical hit. Joker’s dagger fell out of his hand in surprise and clattered to the ground, where Crow quickly grabbed it with a triumphant, twisted grin.

He sank down to practically straddle Joker who lay sprawled on his back in a momentary daze on the dingy subway floor, choosing at close range to hold Joker’s own weapon against his throat. The blade pressed just far enough for a small drop of blood to bead around the tip and Joker swallowed, staring up at Crow’s wild-eyed expression.

“Checkmate, Joker,” the brunette panted with a dark chuckle. “As much as I’d love to keep going, it’s probably best we leave this here before we go past the point of no return. Don’t you agree?”

Instead of backing off though, Crow only leaned in closer as he spoke, as close as the beak of his mask would allow, and dug the blade ever so slightly deeper. Joker let out a soft groan in response, yet curiously it didn’t seem to be only out of pain. His steel gray eyes widened a bit as if in surprise at his own reaction.

Curious, indeed.

Emboldened by the adrenaline rush from battle and the high of his victory, Crow experimentally traced the dagger further down Joker’s neck, light enough not to break skin but slicing through the top of his collar in the process. Joker didn’t even try to push him off or take his weapon back, he just shuddered and stared up at Crow with lips slightly parted as if in a trance.

“Filthy slut,” Crow hissed with twisted glee at the realization. "You’re actually getting off on this, aren’t you?” Sure enough, as he shifted he could feel the stirrings of arousal from the boy below him. Joker groaned again at the slight friction and the surprise of hearing Crow say something so vulgar. He chose to stay quiet as usual and not answer verbally, but his body unwillingly spoke in agreement for him.

It wasn’t his fault, really. Akechi was _pretty_ even seething with barely-contained rage, and he was so, so close to him. He’d always been attracted to the detective despite all the reasons that was definitely a bad idea, he was addled with hormones and though his body was tired from their fight, his mind was still buzzing with energy and wandering thoughts. And if he’s being completely honest, the dagger to his throat thing was hotter than it had any right to be.

“I shouldn’t be surprised you have such perverted proclivities, _Joker_ ,” Crow taunted, clearly enjoying having the upper hand over him in another way now. Joker just stared up at him for another moment before his lips widened into a trademark smirk.

“Thought about it often?” he finally chimed in, voice low and a bit hoarse. He received a slight push of the dagger into his skin in return before Crow pulled off his own mask, and suddenly his face was so dangerously close Joker could feel Crow's breath hot against his lips.

“Perhaps so.” Oh, he hadn’t expected him to admit that so easily. It sent a flood of heat through his body straight to his groin. “I’ve watched you in battle, you know,” Crow-- no, Akechi, now that his mask was off-- continued. “You’re cautious with the orders you give out to your teammates, but you’re reckless when it comes to yourself. You don’t let anyone heal you unless you’re practically on death’s door. You just don’t care if you get hurt, do you?” Akechi’s grin widened. “Or maybe, some sick part of you even enjoys it?” Akira blinked up at him, a bit surprised that the other had been watching him closely enough to pick up on details like that.

“Oh come on,” Akechi drawled. The press of the dagger relaxed, though his position over him did not. “Don’t look at me like that. I _am_ a detective, after all. It’s my job to uncover the truth, and I’m quite good at it.”

Akira took a breath and shifted; the Mementos floor wasn’t exactly comfortable to lay on for extended periods of time and neither was having his kinks exposed by his ill-advised crush. 

“Yeah?” he croaked. “So, what’s _your_ truth, detective?” Akechi’s white outfit did little to hide the outline of his own growing bulge and, true to his accusation of being reckless, Akira threw caution to the wind. He rolled his hips deliberately up against the older boy’s, making Akechi moan softly before he realized what was happening. “Seems I’m not the only filthy one here.”

Akechi brought the dagger back to where it left off in slicing through Akira’s vest, dragging it down further slowly. He stared down at Akira, watching for a sign he wanted him to stop-- Akechi was many things, but he wasn’t someone who would force himself on another person. No such sign came. “I told you already. I’ve thought about this too. You put in your place underneath me and at my mercy.” His lips curled up into a sneer. “It’s just a pleasant surprise that you’re actually into it.”

Without warning, Akechi slashed the rest of the way through Akira’s top and pulled the sides apart roughly, exposing the whole of his torso. Akira gasped in surprise, his heart beating so wildly in his chest he wouldn’t have been shocked if Akechi could hear it too. It was from excitement more than fear, though there was enough of the latter to enhance the former to an intoxicating level.

“You like this too, don’t you?” Akechi carefully traced a shallow cut into Akira’s chest, watching his reactions again closely. The black-haired thief took a shuddering breath and bit his lip but made no move to stop him. “Having your own weapon used against you like this… The almighty leader of the Phantom Thieves likes being powerless against his rival, hmm?” It was a rhetorical question; they both already knew the answer and Akira felt no need to embarrass himself further with a verbal response.

Another slow, deliberate, shallow cut near his collarbone, earning a soft moan in response. “I’ve always wondered, Kurusu.” Akechi’s tone had settled back into something akin to his made-for-TV voice-- mild, pleasant, seeming much more unaffected than he truly was. “Why you choose to use such a short-range weapon as knives when it surely puts you at a disadvantage against many foes. But,” he mused, “I think I may have deduced one reason.”

“Knives are sort of… intimate, aren’t they?” He whispered, and removed Akira’s mask. He dragged the aforementioned blade over Akira’s cheek, a little deeper this time. He didn’t flinch away, just stared at Akechi quietly, defiantly.

“You’re like me,” Akechi continued. “I can see it in your eyes, in the way you fight as Joker. You live for the rush of battle and bloodshed too. It’s thrilling in a dark way, isn’t it? Feeling a life end under your hands, even if it’s just a Shadow.”

Akechi’s own eyes swirled dark, his breath growing shallower and a flush heavy on his cheeks. He was very obviously hard at this point, erection straining against his pants. Logically, Akira knew he should probably be disturbed by this new, bizarrely sadistic side of Akechi, but he was far too gone, far too turned on himself to deny it. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he even could, and he wanted to be disgusted with himself too but the feeling never came.

“You want to be close enough to feel it,” Akechi breathed. “You want to be close enough to risk everything, to hurt and be hurt. Loath as I am to admit it… you truly never cease to fascinate me, Akira.” Akechi’s hand swiped the fresh cut on Akira’s face in what could almost pass for a tender caress. The blood seeping from the wound stained his white glove and gathered on his fingertips. Akechi brushed the blood over Akira’s lips and the younger boy shivered as he tasted metal.

Then Akechi kissed him.

It was a rough, messy affair, teeth and tongue involved from the start with the sharp taste of Akira’s own blood prevailing over anything else. It was everything Akira had been wanting and more. The dagger was discarded in favor of Akechi running his hand over Akira’s chest, pressing into the cuts and toying with his nipples to make him moan into his mouth.

Akira’s arms had wrapped tightly around Akechi, kissing back with fervor and grinding upwards as he sought some kind of stimulation to his aching cock. After a particularly hard press of Akechi’s fingers into a stinging cut, Akira broke apart from their intense kiss and buried his face into Akechi’s neck, breathing hard. He pushed down the other boy’s collar and mouthed sloppy, faintly bloodstained kisses into the skin he found there before finding what seemed to be a sensitive spot and biting down.

Akechi growled and shoved Akira down hard into the floor, making the latter wince at the impact. Impatiently, Akechi moved back some, retrieved the knife, and sliced through Akira’s pants too-- far too close to his dick for Akira’s comfort but it was relieving to be free of the confines of the garment at last.

The black-haired thief propped himself up on his elbows. “Really? Do you have to ruin the _entire_ outfit with your need to be dramatic?”

Akechi set the weapon aside once more. “You’re one to talk about theatrics,” he pointed out, fairly. “Besides, these outfits are born from our own cognition, yes? I’m certain it will regenerate the next time you enter the Metaverse. Though, I have to say, the mental image of our great leader running around in tattered scraps is a bit amusing.”

“And I have to say I liked this better when we weren’t _talking_ so much.” He brought up his hands to begin unfastening the top of Akechi’s complicated outfit as well, feeling like the other was far too overdressed at this point. It took a few moments without the help of a blade but he managed to get it off and tossed it aside carelessly. He shrugged at the Look that Akechi gave him for that.

“What? If it gets dirty it’ll just regenerate,” he said cheekily. Akechi sighed, and seemed to decide suddenly that he agreed about the talking for the moment because he pulled Akira up into another heated kiss. His hand slipped into Akira’s torn pants and took his dick into his hand, swallowing the sound of his moan into their kiss. He began to stroke him, thumb pressing into his slit, and Akira bucked his hips upward into the touch, needing more.

“Sensitive,” Akechi murmured as they eventually broke apart again. “So hard for me. You enjoy being hurt that much?” He bent his head down to nip at the stinging cut near Akira’s collarbone, making him squirm as his body was unsure whether to react to the pain or the pleasure from Akechi’s hand working him, whether to lean into him or away from him.

“Yeah,” Akira breathed. “Yeah, I do, Akechi, I just need…” He trailed off and Akechi squeezed him, making him cry out.

“What do you need, Akira?” He demanded, voice low and rough with desire as he stilled his hand, denying Akira any stimulation until he answered.

“Fuck…” He thrashed his head to the side and his hips tried to thrust into Akechi’s hand, too far gone to control what his body wanted. “I need _you_ , Akechi. I… want to be inside you.” Akechi grinned down at him, looking positively feral with ravenous delight.

“You think you deserve to fuck me? Trash like you?”

“Yeah,” Akira grunted, defiant. “I do.” Akechi snorted, an ugly laugh that the Detective Prince would never be caught making. But here, now, with Akira, he was just Akechi, and everything that came with that, good and bad. Akira was hopeless; he had never been more attracted to anyone in his life.

“Fine,” Akechi relented, too easily, like that was exactly the response he had expected and been hoping for. He released his grip on Akira’s cock and drew a sigh of relief from the latter.

With that, he stood and stripped his own lower half, then walked over to dig in Akira’s bag for... something.

Akira stared for a moment, too transfixed by the view of Akechi’s newly bare ass to question it until he turned and held up a vial of Relax Gel. “Slightly disappointed you’re not quite depraved enough to carry lubricant everywhere, but I suppose this will do.” He sauntered back over to Akira with it, sinking over him again.

“Now then... Prove your worth to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to end it there for now! I haven't posted fic in years, please be gentle with me. Or talk to me about Akeshu on my nsfw twitter @akechisknot


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